


Whatever Keeps You Alive

by MirandasDreams



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-07 08:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12229677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirandasDreams/pseuds/MirandasDreams
Summary: Basically, medical studies had not changed all that much throughout the years, for several reasons. For one, six years is already a painfully long period compared to other studies. Why on all planets would you want to do more?!“You just watch me, with my luck I’ll get grumpy-pants over there…” Zoey groaned back. The universe just tended to bite her in the arse like that.This is the story of Zoey Maine, medical intern at Starfleet Medical and subject to the torture of the grumpiest of them all: Leonard McCoy, CMO of the Starship Enterprise.*Pairings and Rating may still expand/change*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So you know this moment when you’re having a really tough week at med school as well as a bad breakup and all the deadlines from both clinic and lab are closing in and you should really REALLY start to sit your sorry ass down and start studying. Instead you just end up watching all three of the latest Star Trek movies in a row and I’m not talking about once but more like two times… well actually I’m on the fourth time now. And then you get this idea stuck in your head (where about 200 pages of neurology are supposed to be) and you just can’t ignore it and you have to start writing? Yeah, so… this is it. 
> 
> *Please be gentle. This is simply an outburst of my crazy mind, I own nothing, I planned nothing and I have no idea where this is going. I felt a short urge to go and just watch all of Star Trek in existence to improve my background but then I would both fail my last year at med school and not manage to write a single thing. So I’ll just wing it. Also – English is not my mother tongue. Read away :-) And let me know if you like it!

  


#### ~ Prologue ~

  


Basically, medical studies had not changed all that much throughout the years, for several reasons. For one, six years is already a painfully long period compared to other studies. Why on all planets would you want to do more?!

Secondly, yes, alien anatomy and physiology as well as all kinds of weird and most of the time disgusting new diseases had to be added to the schedule, but at the same time medicine had advanced in so many areas that diagnostics and treatment had mostly become easier and faster. Technology had replaced what doctors in earlier centuries had to recognize with nothing but their eyes and hands. 

And thirdly, everybody, who had found himself with sweaty, shaking hands in the prospect of stepping through that ER door for the first time and face the responsibility for a living being, knew: No matter how many years you studied – the real teacher was firsthand experience. At some point you just had to do it, you just had to get in there.  
Still, only very few completing med school started working as physicians in a hospital or their own office right away. Most wanted to deepen their knowledge in a specific field and learn from experienced mentors before jumping in the cold water and therefore joined the scientific departments or humanitarian enterprises providing most medical services nowadays. And then of course, there was Starfleet. 

Zoey’s grandmother had told her (while going on about how privileged she was to be able to go to university) that she knew of her father that before Starfleet had been formed a lot of young people had to join a military force in order to get sufficient funding for their studies, especially those aspiring to be engineers or doctors. Of course the military needed doctors – Zoey had just never seen the reason behind wanting to patch up people so they could go back out to be ripped apart again.  
But Starfleet was not a military organization in that sense. 

“Starfleet is a peacekeeping organization!” her stern-faced instructor had told her on the first day. The basic idea was that of exploring – but nobody could deny that Starfleet also engaged in military operations if necessary and also had both the fleet and the officers trained for these engagements. Besides what the instructor had told her, Zoey knew that confrontations had increased over the last years as more and more conflicts had started to escalate. The confrontations with Nero and then that other madman they called Khan had only been the peak of the iceberg. Romulans were constantly growing bolder in violating the Neutral Zone and there had been rumored sightings of Klingon ships. After a period during which a whole generation of not only humans but also vulcans, betazoids and many other races had invested its’ strength into forming the United Federation of Planets Starfleet, a lot of these bright minds were now gone. And the ones replacing them more often than not had begun to question and doubt (or were just plainly corrupted).

Long story short – Starfleet was low on recruits and increasingly desperate. But they still had extensive funding, so they created new recruitment programs. They intensified advertising and specifically sent out officers to collect anything remotely suitable that had not completely failed the aptitude tests. They expanded their science department to attract scientist from all planets with the newest technology and lab space to research everything between Angorian shingles and transwarp equations (one of those really nobody wanted to ever see again and the other one was still a rumor – but how cool would that be…). And of course, there was the medical department. 

With increasing incidents of military operations and exploring missions lasting several years, the demand for medical personnel had dramatically increased. But doctors were hard to come by, especially those that on one hand had a vast knowledge of just about everything out there, could treat phaser wounds as well as warts in weird places and moreover didn’t have a family that kept them from long missions. So far, Starfleet had mostly employed experienced doctors until there were not enough to be found. This led to the birth of the first medical branch at Starfleet Academy. They offered medical studies as well as fully sponsored internships to fresh doctors which traditionally consisted of working under several senior doctors to gain knowledge and experience. This is how Zoey ended up at Starfleet Academy.

  


#### ~ 1 ~

  


When the soft music of her alarm clock announced that it was indeed already 6.30 am, Zoey couldn’t suppress a groan and rolled over to hide her head under her pillow. She had however once again underestimated how small the academy beds were and with an ungraceful ‘fump’ she fell off the edge of her mattress. Her roommate Nyota came out of the small adjacent bathroom and couldn’t help but laugh at the picture in front of her. Zoey groaned once again while trying to detach herself from her blanket, rub her soon to be blue elbow and get her wild locks out of her eyes. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Nyota said and went to her closet to get out her red cadet uniform with the insignia that marked her as a member of the xenolinguistics department. “Today is the big day, isn’t it?”

“Oh please, don’t remind me,” Zoey sighed, “I need a shower and one or two coffees before I even want to think about that.”

Zoey finally managed to get up and turn off her alarm clock before making her way to the bathroom (making Nyota laugh once again because she held her arms up in front of her like in a classical zombie movie in order to not having to open her eyes completely). 

While the hot water pressed down on her messy hair, Zoey took a deep breath and tried to release some of the tension in her shoulders. Worrying would not change a thing. She scrubbed herself clean and used about half a ton of conditioner to get her unruly hair to comply with her wishes. Then she used the showers drying program to dry her hair and hurried out of the bathroom back to her closet, well aware that she was – once again – late. Nyota was nowhere in sight. 

I just hope she brings back a cup of coffee for me, Zoey thought. Or more like a pint of coffee. That might do it. She hastily put on her cadet uniform and grabbed the insignia with the cross marking her as medical department from yesterdays dirty uniform at the foot of her bed. 

She worked her hair brush furiously through her locks before braiding them back in French fashion down to a low pony tail. When she fastened the last hairpin to make sure her hair wouldn’t bother her later, the bunk door slid open and Nyota reentered. In her arms she was balancing a tray with what looked like two large cappuccinos as well as some pastry. 

“Breakfast for my wonderful roommate,” she announced, “But please don’t throw up in the attendance hall.”

“What would I do without you,” Zoey beamed and quickly slid into her black uniform boots. She looked back at the mirror and of course, the first lock had already escaped the braid and dangled in front of her left ear.

“Light make-up or no make-up?” she asked. 

“Make-up,” Nyota said sipping on her coffee. “Hey, if you get one of the hotties as senior doc you might as well impress them on the first day,” she grinned. 

“Yeah, I would rather impress with my skill rather than my face, thank you very much,” Zoey groaned but complied. “Also, with my luck I either get one who is as boring as the xenoanatomy professor or one of those arrogant trauma surgeons that think they are the center of the world…”

By 7.10 am, Zoey hurried down the hallway while sipping on the last drops of her coffee. 

By 7.12 am Nyota gave her a short but warm embrace and whispered “Go get it, girl” before taking a left to the xenolinguistics lab she was currently working at. Zoey shook her head and kept half-running around the next corner in the direction of the attendance hall. Get it, yeah whatever. The decisions had long been made and you would need a pretty great excuse to be able to change anything after today’s announcement. 

7.14 am, empty cappuccino cup into the waste bin and turn to the right. 

Just when the clock turned to 7.15 am, she slid through the great doors of attendance hall and silently took her place next to a familiar blond head. 

“Hey there,” she murmured. Jane took her hand and pressed it as a welcome. 

“Hey,” Jane hushed, “there you are. Nervous?” 

Zoey swallowed. “Definitely.” 

Suddenly the door at the front side of the hall opened and revealed the head of Starfleet Medical. Commander Bashir, an intimidating man in his fifties, had served as Chief Medical Officer on various ships before agreeing to lead the first medical department at Starfleet Academy. Besides being strict, Bashir was actually an excellent teacher. His lectures had been the most captivating and at the same time instructive of all lectures held in the three months of pre-internship courses Zoey had attended. Following him, there were about thirty doctors in their blue uniforms with the silver bands at their sleeves indicating their ranks from Lieutenant to Commander.

Zoey and Jane did not have silver bands, as they were still ensigns, the lowest rank within Starfleet. With a bit of pride, Zoey thought of Nyota. Even though she was technically still attending Starfleet Academy, her roommate had been appointed Lieutenant for her excellent work aboard the Enterprise through the events of the last year. She had stayed in San Francisco to complete her degree while the Enterprise had been gone on a few small missions and was now leading a small team of xenolinguists at the lab. 

Most of the doctors now standing in a row behind Commander Bashir Zoey had never seen before. This being the first year of interns at the Academy, everybody was still accustoming to procedures and only few of Starfleet’s medical personnel had welcomed the idea to go back to the Academy to teach part-time. Actually, about half of the doctors attending seemed to be there unwillingly, with one of them wearing a scowl clearly showing his opinion. 

“Oh my, who stepped on his toes,” Jane whispered. 

“You just watch me, with my luck I’ll get grumpy-pants over there…” Zoey groaned back. The universe just tended to bite her in the arse like that. 

After having completed the exams after the pre-courses two weeks ago, it was now time for the interns to start working under a senior officer and prove their worth. The exams had been hard, designed to separate the interns into levels which would then decide their assignment to different senior doctors. There were 92 interns in the attending hall. Of the admitted 100, five had not passed the exam, two decided to leave on their own terms after the first week and one – Zoey suppressed a snicker – one had supposedly been involved in a delicate manner with an Orion girl from engineering track. In the fountain in front of the main hall. Too bad they had not noticed that the sun was already rising and that Commander Bashir had just arrived to go over a case once more before the day’s lecture. 

Since there were only 30 doctors willing (or in some cases forced) to supervise an intern, they would have to go in groups of at least three, Zoey mused. Her pulse sped up. Soon enough, Commander Bashir cleared his throat, stepped up to the lectern and began talking in his pleasant bass. 

“Interns, thank you for attending. Today I will announce your placements for the practical part of you internship. As you are all aware, the practical part consists of a twelve month contract with a specific department within Starfleet, a medical department on one of our off-planet bases or if necessary on board of one of our vessels should you accompany medical personnel that will be deployed during your internship. While some interns will be the only ones assigned to one senior medical officer, others will find themselves in groups of up to four people. It is, I reckon, understandable, that while a department supplying medical care on a base can supervise more than one intern, our vessels as well as our doctors on board have limited capacities.”

Zoey clenched her sweaty hands. Even if they had been allowed to voice a preference of placement, she could not have decided. Of course, staying at the Academy meant she would be able to keep her room and more importantly stay with Nyota, but she had not joined Starfleet to stay on Earth. Actually she had joined to smite her now ex-boyfriend, but damn it, she did want to see space. But being stuck in a ship for a year gave her an uneasy feeling nevertheless. 

“Adams”, Bashir began to read from the PADD in his hands, “Lieutenant Commander Jones, Department of Pediatric Oncology”. 

Oh well, oncology had never been her favorite field. Sure, nowadays there were anti-cancer regimes with genetic therapies and nanomolecular agents – but still. She had seen more patients waste away than walk out of oncology wards. 

Bashir kept announcing placements and interns stepped down and received their PADD from the senior officer they had been assigned to before returning to their place. The first ten were assigned to Academy departments. 

“Galway”, Bashir called out. Next to Zoey, Jane took a deep breath and awaited her assignment. “Commander Calloway, Starfleet Base on Psi Epsilon III”. 

Zoey’s pulse sped up. Jane would go off planet and that meant one year without the one that had kept her going through all of med school, had always provided her with chocolate and if necessary, reruns of some silly classical shows. But Jane was brilliant and had probably gotten an amazing score on the exam, so it was only logical that she would be assigned to a demanding position. Only logical, Zoey thought, now she began to sound like that Vulcan science officer Nyota kept talking about. By the way, she had not heard anything about him during the last week, which raised her suspicion. She would have to pester Nyota tonight to get some information. 

Jane returned with her PADD in her hand and a smile on her face. Her senior doc, Calloway, a short female Lieutenant Commander with chestnut hair, seemed friendly and had greeted her with encouraging words. 

“You’ll be fine,” Jane whispered. 

“Yeah sure…” Zoey retorted, just as Bashir arrived at “Noel”. She braced herself, all the while trying to ignore the twisting sensation in her stomach. 

“Maine” Zoey nearly winced at her own name. “Commander McCoy, USS Enterprise.” 

  


~

  


“You should have seen the way he glared at me, Jane. No, seriously, if he had any Psi powers I would have had a seizure right there!” 

“Oh come on,” Jane let out a small laugh, “It wasn’t that bad. I was right there, remember?”

“Stop laughing, you were standing in a safe distance! I was right there, being mentally reduced to ashes by grumpy cat!” Zoey exclaimed in exasperation. 

Now Jane couldn’t hold her laughter anymore. The two ensigns were on their way from attendance hall to the library to go through their orders, surrounded by excitingly chattering interns. 

“But how cool is that: I’ll be on a star base and you will probably be on the USS Enterprise. I mean – the flagship full of good looking officers?! What more would you want?” Jane put her arm around her friend’s shoulders and squeezed her to ease the sour look off her face.

“More like a flying magnet for disaster, if you ask me… But yeah, whatever, I’m excited. I would have for once just liked to have an instructor interested in teaching and easy to deal with”, Zoey sighed.

True, an increasing part of her was excited to be one of the few chosen to work on a starship with the possibility of going to space. But six years of medical school had also taught her that the success of clinical placements was in equal parts depending on the student’s motivation and the teacher’s interest. And the way Commander McCoy, CMO of the USS Enterprise, had shoved the PADD into her hands without even introducing himself had spoken of zero interest in her and the development of her abilities. 

“Don’t already give up on him, honey. Maybe the hard shell protects a soft core,“ Jane said opening the library’s door with her I.D. “I heard the crew of the Enterprise has only been on leave for a few days since their last trip to the Neutral Zone. Maybe he is jet lagged or something.”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep defending grumpy cat.” Zoey sighed and followed Jane into the library. 

The two girls made their way through rows of grey bookshelves. They were too cold and sterile for Zoey’s taste. She preferred the historical library back at her university in Washington D.C. It was full of beautiful wooden bookshelves, carved several hundred years ago, which gave the library a cozy atmosphere. She had spent the magnitude of her studying time in the dimly lit studying booths next to a broad window front, overlooking the campus park. Of course, most literature was stored online and thus available on their PADDS, but there was something about the smell of a book’s pages that fascinated Zoey. 

They found a quiet space in the back corner of the trauma surgery section and sat down with their PADDs to finally go through the details of their internship. Zoey tapped on the document to open it. Jane was already scrolling down through what looked like a schedule, while Zoey was staring at the one sentence on her display.

_Report to room 3AG.2.567 at 8 o’clock tomorrow for assessment._

This was going to be a loooong 12 months.


	2. Chapter 2

#### ~ 2 ~

Nyota stared at her with an open mouth for about a minute, when Zoey told her about her internship placement during lunch. Then her surprise was replaced by excitement.

“I had no idea Dr. McCoy would take an intern! But now that I think about it… that makes total sense! And you are part of the crew now!” Nyota reached across the cafeteria table to embrace Zoey. 

“That means we will go to space together! I’ll be finished at the lab just in time for the next mission if everything goes as planned, oh and in case we don’t get individual quarters, we could bunk up together! I’m sure will get along with the rest of the crew, most of them are young geniuses. Well of course there is the occasional dimwit, but they are usually down in engineering or security…” she went on.

Zoey smiled and finished her meal while Nyota kept laying out all arguments for why her being on the USS Enterprise was the best thing that could have happened. 

“Oh and I told you so!”

Zoey frowned. “You told me what?”

Nyota grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “That you would get one of the sexy docs…”

 

~

 

Bones made his way back to Jim’s quarters. Of course the corn-fed idiot had managed to sustain some third degree burns on the last mission. The day Jim Kirk came back unharmed from a mission, that would officially be the day Bones would retire. He opened the door with his medical override code. 

“Rise and shine, sunshine,” he said entering the dark room. “Computer, lights to 20 percent.” 

The computer obliged and the light revealed the form of Jim Kirk, borrowed in his bed under multiple blankets.

“Boooones… whyyy?” Jim groaned and shielded his eyes with a pillow. 

“Because it’s past noon and you should at least try to regain a normal sleep pattern. And I need to change those dermal regenerators if you don’t want to look like two-face for the rest of your life.”

“Two-face?! Bones how old are you? Those DC movies are positively ancient!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bones grumbled and sat down on the bed. “Now turn around, sleeping beauty, so I can get a look at those burns.”

With a groan Jim succumbed and turned so Bones could reach the regenerator strap covering the right side of his face, all the way from under his chin up to the hair line. The skin underneath was still tainted in an angry red, but at least it was dry and all blisters had receded.

“Well, it doesn’t look too bad. Another round of regen tonight should take care of the rest.” Bones discarded the used regenerator and reached into his bag to pull out a hypospray. “So is it safe to assume I have you to thank for the intern? That is how you repay me for saving your ass?!”

Jim put on his best angel face. “I don’t know what you are – Ouch!“ 

With a jab Bones had sunk the hypospray into Jim’s neck. 

“Alright, alright, you madman, yes, I sanctioned Commander Bashir’s request, but definitely not to punish you. And what was that for?”

“Well, for one, it’s against the pain and should help with the tension on the new skin. And besides that, it is your punishment for assigning personnel to Med Bay without asking your Chief Medical Officer!”

“Oh come on, Bones. It’s just for a year and you can use another pair of hands on deck. We both know the Enterprise has lost more doctors than we can replace.”

“I need experienced officers, not some untrained kid fresh out of university!”

“I’m sure you will teach her everything you know in no time.” Jim padded his friend’s shoulder and sat up to get out of bed. “And I saw her aptitude tests, I think she will be a great addition to the crew.”

Bones rolled his eyes at that. There was a reason he had agreed to take over the simulation designing for the Medical Department, because that way he got out of the actual teaching. 

“So – lunch. You coming or what.” Jim pulled on a pair of uniform pants and rummaged through the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed in search for a clean shirt.

“Not before you’ve taken a shower, you stink like a pig’s ass.”

“I love you too, Bones. Last one to arrive gets the check.”

 

~

 

Zoey spent the rest of the day and evening nervously walking up and down the dorm room, feeling as if she should be preparing something but at the same time knowing there was nothing to prepare. She continued with taking apart and putting back together her tricorder twice. After that, she laid out her uniform for the next day and brought all dirty uniforms to the cleaning processors in the hallway. When she got back she tidied up the room out of desperation. 

Finally, around 2000 – Zoey had just started organizing her hair bands by color – Nyota snapped and ordered her to sit down on the bed. 

“Alright, that’s it. I can’t take it anymore. No, stay in the damn bed. I’ll get each of us a glass of the good stuff and then we are watching the newest episode of “My Alien Secret”.”

Zoey opened her mouth to object, but Nyota was not having it. 

“No, no protesting. You, my dear, just lost all your roommate privileges within the last two hours.”

And that was how they stayed up much too long, getting comfortably drunk. Even though Zoey could not watch anybody talking about sexual fantasies that included some tentacle-faced crossing between Godzilla and a guinea pig without hysterically laughing, it had at least made her fall asleep without worrying too much. 

Still, the next morning came much too soon and this time Zoey was wide awake before her alarm went off.

 

~

 

Bones had stopped by Jim’s quarter to take the dermal regenerator off the newly healed skin in Jim’s face and was of now running five minutes late due to his friend’s childish bickering. He scowled at some engineering cadets blocking the hallway. The next time Jim made a decision over his head, he would finally turn in one of the resignation forms that were neatly stacked in his desk. Every single one of them was already filled in.

When he arrived at 3AG.2.567, Ensign Maine was already waiting at the door. When she saw him, she stood at attention, but Bones still noticed the nervous tremble in her hands. 

“At ease, Ensign.”

“Commander McCoy.” The Ensign greeted him with a respectful nod.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. Apparently being a CMO doesn’t include breakfast.” 

Ensign Maine’s mouth twitched, but otherwise she kept her straight face.

“This is a simulation room. I have designed medical simulations as well as a row of tests that will be part of the medical studies here at Starfleet Academy. You will run through them to assess your abilities as well as to reveal any flaws in the simulations. I reserved the 0800 to 1000 slot for the next three weeks. Besides your regular classes, you are to attend Advanced Xenobiology as well as Space Infectiology. Those two always come in handy when you’re in space.” Bones turned to enter the authorization code into the doors lock. 

“You will return here for another simulation at 3 pm on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, these I will attend to monitor your progress. Additionally, you may spend your spare time at the ER with Nurse Chapel, getting accustomed to procedures at Starfleet Medical.”

“Yes, Commander.” Ensign Maine followed him into the room, taking in her surroundings with barely concealed awe in her face. 

Bones stepped up to a control panel in the wall, feeling a little pride for what had taken him a few months to accomplish.

Inside the room was a holodeck, a quite recent development for simulations. It allowed fitting everything between skiing in the Alps and a starship battle into nothing more than 50 square meters, but without any program running the walls were just black panels. In contrast to regular simulations like the Kobayashi Maru, holodeck simulations did not need multiple personnel to participate. The computer could provide fully functional persons just as well as interactive dialogue. This made them perfect for medical simulations. But holodecks were new and expensive, Bones had been required to fill out a ridiculous amount of Starfleet Academy forms to request one for educational purposes alone. 

“As you are already a certified doctor, I will not put you through the basic patient contact simulations. Let’s start with something a bit more demanding.”

 

~

 

The first three simulations were similar to situations in clinical training that Zoey had attended at university and she completed them easily. An anaphylactic shock, burn wounds, a concussion. Something told her that the CMO had taken these cases right out of firsthand experience.

“Alright, I seem to be boring you,” McCoy said with a raised eyebrow after she had completed the last sim in under three minutes. “Let’s try one of the tests. This will be part of the sixth year final.” 

He turned back to the control panel and scrolled down through a row of programs before selecting one with a red annotation. 

“This is a full surround simulation, so don’t be surprised if you feel a bit disorientated.”

He started the simulation countdown and the holodeck came alive. 

This time Zoey did not find herself in a Med Bay, but on board of a shuttle. Also on board there was a pilot as well as two security officers. When she looked down at herself she noticed even her clothes had been covered with a simulation of a pressure suit, designed for work out in space. 

McCoy had been right, a feeling of nausea ran over her when she looked outside the shuttle windows and was greeted by the black void of space. Suddenly she was not sure if she was still in the holodeck. 

“Don’t worry, the feeling will pass,” Dr. McCoy sat down next to her, also dressed in a pressure suit. “Just concentrate on the task.”

Just at that moment, the shuttle’s comm came alive.

“Bridge to Shuttle 4.”

“This is Shuttle 4,” the simulated pilot replied.

“Mission parameters: You are to rescue any survivors from the USS Farragut. Take extreme precautions, the enemy ship might still be in the vicinity. Transporters are available at your request and a medical team awaits any patients in the transporter room.”

“Understood.” The pilot ended the transmission and turned towards Zoey and the other passengers.

“Put on your helmets, we are closing in on the first field of debris, with two life signs straight ahead. I will open the shuttle doors so you can retrieve them.”

Zoey complied and pulled the helmet set on the bench next to her over her head. With a hiss, it connected to the suit. The security officers mirrored her move but furthermore fastened cables from the roof of the shuttle to their belts. 

“They will retrieve the patients, you are to do the initial assessment and stabilize if possible,” McCoy explained and reached up to the cables. “You should secure yourself as well, if you don’t want to be sucked out into oblivion.”

Zoey swallowed and fastened the offered cable to the back of her belt.

“Get ready,” the pilot announced, “Opening shuttle doors in 5 – 4 – 3 …” 

Gripping tight onto the bench and her tricorder, Zoey braced herself. But nothing could have prepared her for the force of suction when the shuttle doors opened to the vacuum of space. Her pressure suit hummed to life and the security cable held her in place, but she still felt as if her spine was making its way out her bellybutton.

The security officers used the initial suction to let themselves be pulled out of the shuttle and towards the debris that must have been a part of the ship’s canteen. Zoey’s breath echoed loudly in her ears while she tried to remember the initial treatment for depressurizing, for that would definitely be part of what the injured crew members of the Farragut had been exposed to. Closely followed by radiation. And every other possible trauma. She reached for the hypospray in her belt, turning to select a dosage. 

“Shuttle 4, ready for extraction,” the security officer’s voice came through the comm. “Two injured incoming.”

McCoy activated the cable retraction to pull the two officers and their cargo back into the shuttle. 

“Remember, you are in charge, so you need to tell me what you want me to do.”

“Right, of course,” Zoey cleared her throat. “I will assess the first patient, please do the same to the second. Administer initial treatment for depressurizing trauma and radiation poisoning.” 

McCoy signaled his agreement with a nod. A few seconds later, the security officers arrived through the open shuttle doors, each with an unconscious officer wrapped in first aid pressure blankets. The doors hissed shut and the pressure inside the cabin slowly returned to normal. 

Zoey immediately crouched down next to the first officer. It was a female, maybe 25 years old. Zoey quickly performed an emergency scan, but could not detect any severe trauma other than the depressurizing and radiation poisoning she had expected. Without hesitating she administered the hypos to normalize brain pressure as well as ease the lung contusion. Stem cell treatment and intensified regeneration on skin and eyes would have to wait until later. She fastened a transport beacon to the woman’s uniform. 

“Transporter, one injured to beam out.”

“Understood,” a voice on the comm confirmed and Zoey watched as her patient was beamed out. 

Then she turned towards McCoy who was working on the second officer. 

“Details, please,” she said moving to the other side of the patient. 

“Amputated leg, serial rib fracture, radiation poisoning and severe depressurizing trauma. Vitals are failing.”

Zoey synchronized her tricorder to the CMO’s and had to agree with him. Blood pressure was 60 over 40 and falling and the officer was losing blood at an alarming rate.

“Tourniquet to the leg to stop the bleeding, Doctor,” she instructed Dr. McCoy. “I will tap the left lung, one of the rips has punctured the lung and is compressing the big vessels.”

The pilot chimed in: “Do you want to transport him so they can treat him at Med Bay?”

“He won’t make it through the transport,” Zoey declined, “Just get us back to the ship as soon as possible.” 

“Aye, Doc.”

They got to work as fast as they could, but the blood pressure kept falling. Suddenly, the tricorder alarm indicated cardiac arrest. 

“Starting CPR, Pilot, how far are we out?” Zoey couldn’t help but letting a bit of desperation seep into her voice. 

“90 seconds. A medical team is awaiting our arrival.” 

Zoey started compressions on the officer’s chest, while McCoy fastened a respirator over his mouth. 

“Administer 50 ccs of trinephedrine to the heart,” Zoey ordered, “And prepare for defibrillation.”

McCoy complied, pushing the hypospray right in between the fourth and fifth rib. Zoey resumed her compressions right away while he fastened the defibrillator pads onto the officer’s chest. 

“Ready for defibrillation. Clear!”

Zoey leaned back, her eyes fixated on the tricorder screen, while McCoy pushed the shock button. The defibrillation shook the whole patient. After a painfully long couple seconds, the tricorder light turned to green as the heart rate reappeared on the screen. Zoey let go of the breath she had been holding. 

“Ready for touchdown,” the pilot announced.

 

With a beep, the simulation ended.

 

Zoey had to blink a few times to realize she was back on the black floor of the holodeck.

“Evaluation: Passed,” the computer announced.

Slowly, Zoey got up on her feet and turned towards her senior doc.

“Not bad”, McCoy murmured and actually looked at his intern for the first time. “We might make a good doctor out of you after all.”

 

~

 

The rest of the week flew by in a haze.

After simulations in the morning and then classes until 2 pm, fortunately together with Jane, Zoey made a habit of going to the hospital every day. McCoy had called it ‘spare time’, but for Zoey it was actually the only time she really got to spend working in her profession. After all, she was already certified as a doctor and itched to make use of her abilities.

The first contact with Nurse Chapel on Tuesday afternoon had been tense. Relationships between young doctors and experienced nurses were often times strained, but with Nurse Chapel Zoey felt like nothing she did met the required standards. Even though Chapel was by no standards old, she was maybe in her late twenties, she was head nurse of the Enterprise and one of the head nurses at Starfleet Medical as well. And she had earned that position by being extremely competent and level-headed. But at the same time, she was rather strict and therefore wary of new doctors coming to her ER.

Luckily, the situation had greatly improved after an incident on Thursday. 

Just as Zoey had sat down to take a short break and annihilate that donut that she had picked up on the way to the Med Center, the ER doors opened and in came a group of young men, frantically screaming for a doctor. In their middle they were carrying two more men, both unconscious but their blood staining the white floor tiles. Zoey got out of her seat and stepped up to the door to see if her help was needed. 

It turned out the two men, brothers, had been target of a hit and run, probably one of the downtown gangs. They had been shot multiple times, by weapons that should probably be classified as ancient. Unfortunately, the munitions had been just as old and had splintered on impact like miniature grenades. Zoey stepped up and assisted Dr. M’Benga, who was on duty, with the older brother by passing on the requested hyposprays and instruments. Nurse Chapel, supported by her team of nurses, did her best to stabilize the other, who after a closer look was nothing more than a boy of maybe 17 years. 

As soon as the OR signaled that they were ready, the two brothers were transferred down the hall directly into surgery. Even though Zoey had wanted nothing more than to join Dr. M’Benga and the others and finally get her hands on a patient, she had reigned herself in and stayed behind. 

But instead of moping in a corner or going back to the dorm, Zoey had made sure to do her best. She triaged every other incoming patient and added short overviews to the ER consultation forms including the most important information of each patient. She supported the remaining two nurses by taking blood samples, running basic analysis protocols or filling out laboratory analysis requests.

When Chapel came by to check in between surgeries, she was greeted by a completely organized ER. Zoey had just finished presenting the pre-assessed patients to Dr. Calloway, who had not yet returned to her base on Psi Epsilon III and therefore had been called in to cover the ER until M’Benga was available again. With something resembling respect, Chapel caught Zoey’s eyes and offered her a small nod. 

Shortly after, Zoey made her way back to the office where the attending doctors sat down to work through files and found a steaming cup of coffee waiting on the desk. This marked the beginning of a tender friendship. 

 

~

 

The relationship with Nurse Chapel, or Christine, as they were now on a first name basis, improved greatly after that. But since Dr. McCoy as her supervising officer had not cleared her for any medical procedures and Zoey could not even access a medical file without another doctor or a nurse entering their code, work still tended to be extremely boring. And along with the boredom, Zoey’s frustration grew steadily with each passing day.

While Jane was preparing for the trip to Psi Epsilon III, Zoey either did first contact anamnesis for patients coming to the ER or she worked herself through a ridiculous amount of health check-ups. 

Every cadet had to be assessed and advised in case of health issues before being cleared for active duty on a starship. With the beginning of the new academic year, appointments were overflowing with nervous first years, afraid to be declared unfit before they even had the chance to really start their education.

The little twinge in the back of her neck had developed into a full-blown headache by the time she entered the examination room for the last check-up scheduled for the day. 

Cadet Allen was young, maybe 20 years old, but heavy enough for two of his age. He planned on majoring in the science department, focus zoology. Zoey scrolled through the medical file on the PADD. 

“You are aware that your body weight is above what we recommend for space shuttle travel, Cadet? Gravity tends to triple the force experienced during turbulences. Have you considered joining a training squad to lose some weight and improve your endurance scores?”

The cadet turned a light pink. 

“It’s not that I do not work out, a little overweight seems to run in our family,” he stammered, trying to defend himself.

No, the problem is that no one runs in your family, Zoey thought and bit on her cheek to hold her tongue. She turned her eyes back to the PADD and continued filling out the examination form. 

 

~

 

Like every evening, Zoey took the frustration of the day to the gym. As a grad student joining Starfleet she had to attend to a handful of extra classes, including a combat class. Basic combat techniques wasn’t her favorite class by far, but still better than going to bed feeling like a warp core ready to detonate. 

The ER had been empty after she had finished with Cadet Allen, so she was about 30 min early when she arrived at the sports and recreation center. Leaving her wireless ear buds in and blasting some music to drown the voices around her, Zoey quickly changed into a loose shirt over a tank top and some yoga pants. These were actually her favorite, sporting a pattern of Jupiter on a black background. She shut the locker door with a bit too much force and entered the gym. Then she got onto the next best treadmill and turned it on to a slow jog. 

It had taken her a while to admit that she would never master hand to hand combat. She loved dancing, was a decent swimmer and had made a habit of going for a jog every once in a while to stay fit. She could also throw a good right hook at the punching bag, but when it came to beating someone square in the face, she felt useless. Somehow there seemed to be an invisible barrier, holding her back. Do no harm, a doctor’s prime directive. But her stern faced instructor had made very clear that she did not give a damn about her morale concerns, she was to pass the class if she wanted to graduate. 

Deep in thoughts, Zoey did not notice the head full of blond curls next to her until the owner of said head gently nudged her arm and spoke up.

“It waz a bad day, huh?”

“Pavel!” Zoey discarded her ear buds and turned off the treadmill to pull her favorite Russian into her arms. “I didn’t know you were here!”

“I went for zome vacation to Russia after the last mission,” Pavel beamed. “I came back yesterday. How have you been Zoey? I heard you are part of ze crew now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this little outburst of my creativity! Comments and kudos are the stuff I live for :-) Also, any kind of feedback is appreciated!


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